


(when you call my name) it's like a little prayer

by oddeyejinsol



Series: devil in her heart [1]
Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, Porn with some plot, Praise Kink, Slight humiliation kink, blink and youll miss it exhibitionism, church girl jiwoo, demon jungeun, extreme disrespect of christianity, uhh what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 04:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddeyejinsol/pseuds/oddeyejinsol
Summary: “Hey, God. You probably don’t wanna talk to me right now, but to be fair you’re the one who put a girl like that in my path when you know I already have … less than heterosexual thoughts. And the fact that she’s literally a gay demon? Isn’t that kind of on the nose? Anyway. I’m pretty sure I saw her kill someone, so what am I supposed to do now? Should I call an exorcist, or the cops? I’m so confused. Just … give me a sign, please?”





	(when you call my name) it's like a little prayer

**Author's Note:**

> i umm.. dont have anything to say for myself except im sorry 2 all christians and god ..  
> also at first jiwoo is kind of in denial abt being a raging homo but clearly that goes away Fast bc u all see that rating lmfao. just fair warning!! enjoy <3

“... and please keep Mom and Dad safe, and let a puppy be adopted from the shelter today. Amen!” 

Jiwoo opens her eyes and stands, a smile naturally coming to her face. She’s had a crappy day at college, but praying always makes her feel better, like she’s talking to someone she can confide in. She takes a moment to admire the glass stained windows that look more beautiful every time she visits, and then turns and walks out of the large wooden doors.

She’s surprised at the sight of another girl outside the church; it’s fairly old and pretty abandoned, which is why she comes here. She prefers to pray in solitude. Still, though, she would never be anything less than kind to a stranger.

“Hi there,” she says, with a smile. The girl cocks her head, meeting her gaze. She’s wearing a red dress that dances in the sunlight with a denim jacket on top. “Are you here to pray?”

The girl shakes her head, slowly. “Not the praying type,” she says, voice husky and barely audible over the slight breeze.

Jiwoo frowns. “Why not? It’s nice to get things off your chest, you know, let God help you with them.”

The girl barks out a laugh, loud and abrasive, unlike her speaking voice. “I don’t think God can help me at this point,” she says. Jiwoo gasps slightly at the blasphemy, but reminds herself, _let she without sin cast the first stone_. 

“What makes you say that?” she asks.

“I haven’t exactly been … what’s the word … pure.” When the girl says that, it seems like she’s looking _into_ Jiwoo rather than at her. Her eyes are dark, practically black, and her gaze burns Jiwoo’s face for a reason she can’t comprehend.

“That doesn’t matter at all. Anyone can be saved as long as you accept Jesus! Romans 10:10,” Jiwoo says. 

“It’s not about whether I’d accept him, honey. I don’t think he’d accept _me_ ,” the girl says, with a half-smirk on her face like she’s indulging in a private joke with herself.

“He’s accepted worse, I guarantee. After all, we’re all sinners,” Jiwoo says earnestly. The wind picks up and the girl’s dress flutters higher, exposing a long expanse of smooth, supple thigh. Jiwoo averts her eyes instantly, her heartbeat racing. _Some of us more than others._

“I’m Jiwoo, by the way,” she adds, feeling that they should at least be on a first name basis after that.

“Jungeun,” the girl says.

“Well, Jungeun. Do you want to get lunch? I’d like to hear more of your thoughts,” Jiwoo says. Her repressed guilt has quickly decided that her impure thoughts would be okay if she can convince Jungeun that she can be saved. After all, what better thing is there to do for Him than to help a lost soul?

“Sure,” Jungeun says, shrugging. “You’re going to have to pick a place, though. I’m not really from around here.”

Jiwoo ends up picking a cute bubble tea cafe, and Jungeun really isn’t from around here judging by the way she eyes the cup in alarm. “You just swallow those?” she asks.

“No, you chew. You want some?” Jiwoo offers the cup.

Jungeun shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m sort of on a special diet.”

“Really? You look great, though,” Jiwoo says before she can think too much about it. The compliment makes Jungeun flash her teeth.

“Thanks, cutie,” she replies, and Jiwoo hopes her cheeks aren’t as hot as they feel.

She clears her throat. “So! Let me tell you about this church group…”

Although Jiwoo is doing this to clear her conscience, it’s only proving to have the opposite effect. The whole time she’s telling Jungeun about how important it is to have faith, how central religion is to her life, she can’t stop watching Jungeun’s lips. They’re just pretty, especially when she laughs sarcastically at something Jiwoo says or runs her tongue along the seam.

Surprisingly enough, Jungeun listens to Jiwoo. She doesn’t look like she buys any of it, at all, but she seems content to sit and talk. When Jiwoo reaches the end of her drink, she’s surprised when Jungeun asks, “you wanna do this again sometime?”

“Ah — sure!” Jiwoo says, surprised but not in a bad way. Maybe her impromptu missionary act is actually working. What can she do, say no to an opportunity to guide someone onto the path of light? “I’ll give you my phone number.”

“I don’t have a phone,” Jungeun says, “but let’s meet here, same time next week?”

“Sure thing!” Jiwoo says, brightly, then goes to pay for her drink. By the time she’s back Jungeun has gone already, leaving no trace that she was even there except for her jacket, draped across the back of her seat.

Maybe Jiwoo puts it on as she walks back home, but it’s just because she’s cold, okay? It smells a little weird. Not that she’s actively smelling it or anything. Just, there’s the scent of something a little burnt. Maybe Jungeun smokes? Of course, that just makes Jiwoo think of Jungeun lighting up a cigarette, plush lips wrapped around the end, cheeks hollowing when she sucks in.

She takes the jacket off with a bit too much force. _Keep watch, so that you will not give in to temptation. For the spirit is willing, but the body is weak._

* * *

Their little meetings end up becoming pretty regular, although not always at the same spot. Despite Jungeun not having a phone (which, what normal human being doesn’t in this day and age?) she always manages to run into Jiwoo, popping up on her way home from class or while she’s grocery shopping. 

Jiwoo doesn’t see her at the church again, though. Although this really did start out with Jiwoo imagining that she could become Jungeun’s mentor of faith of sorts, that plan fails very quickly. Jungeun clearly has no interest in religion; if anything, she’s somewhat opposed to it. Although it’s initially kind of a shock to Jiwoo, who squirms every time Jungeun casually says something sacrilegious, she ends up finding that she enjoys spending time with Jungeun despite their differences. 

It’s just … being around Jungeun is a little difficult when you have a tendency to fantasize about girls. At first, Jiwoo thinks it’s just her evil mind running away with her again, but sometimes it just feels like Jungeun is fucking with her. Her touches seem to linger too long, and she has a habit of looking at Jiwoo like she’s going to either devour or attack her. Then there are moments of strange, thick tension between them, like the one time Jungeun had wiped some frosting off Jiwoo’s lips and honest to god sucked her finger clean, pulling off with an obscene _pop_ and everything.

(Jiwoo’s mind has a field day with that one. She wakes up hot and wet from so many Jungeun-filled dreams that she starts drinking coffee with dinner in an attempt to put off sleep.)

Her suspicions strengthen after a particular conversation they have during one of their semi-regular arguments about religion. She forgets how exactly they got to this point, but Jungeun’s saying to her, “but you can’t pick and choose which parts of the Bible you believe! There are some parts that say eating shellfish is a sin, what about that?”

“Come on, I think you can use your common sense for stuff like that,” Jiwoo responds. 

“Common sense is subjective, though! Some people would think that it’s common sense to think, like, gay people are going to hell.”

“That’s just dumb. Besides, the Bible doesn’t even mention anything about same-sex relationships specifically, and Jesus said to love everyone,” Jiwoo recites. She’s Googled this particular question so many times it’s like she’s trying to convince herself as well as Jungeun. 

Jungeun raises her eyebrows. “It sounds like you’ve done your research. So you don’t think I’m going to hell for fucking girls?”

Jiwoo stiffens at the blunt wording. “There are families here!” she squeaks, but that’s definitely not the reason she feels like she’s burning up. Jungeun just grins in response, toothy. 

Attempting to steady her voice, she continues, “I mean, there might be a problem with … _that_ part. You’re supposed to wait till marriage.”

Jungeun rolls her eyes, scoffs. “What a dated concept. Besides, even if you do believe in that shit, hasn’t Jesus already died for our sins? Why not give him his money’s worth?” Her voice drops at the end, and Jiwoo inexplicably feels like she’s asking her that as a direct question rather than a hypothetical one. 

Jiwoo changes the subject, quickly, and Jungeun keeps on that arrogant smirk for the rest of the evening. She only gets bolder with her advances after that day, and Jiwoo feels like she’s going insane every time she sees her. She can’t stop, though. Moth, meet flame — it burns, but god, that _light._

Her life doesn’t _really_ start to go downhill until one fateful night a few months after her and Jungeun’s initial meeting. It had started out as a nice evening, but it starts raining halfway through Jiwoo’s class and so she has no protection for her walk home. Fortunately, though, it’s not long before a car pulls up right by her side and she recognizes the driver.

“Jiwoo!” he says cheerfully, waving. It’s a guy she recognizes from her business class; they’d been partners for a project earlier in the semester.

“Surok! How are you?” she says politely.

“I’m alright, but you don’t have an umbrella. Here, let me drive you home.” 

Jiwoo hesitates. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” she says, but he’s already leaning over to open the passenger door.

“Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold like this,” he says, and Jiwoo can’t argue with that so she gets in, sighing with relief at the heated seat of the car.

Jiwoo tells him her address, and they make small talk about school and the weather while he drives. The soft radio and the rain is calming to Jiwoo, and she starts to relax. It’s completely out of the blue when Surok puts a hand on her leg, and she jerks away so hard it makes him swerve a little.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demands, her voice shrill.

He barely even looks at her. “What you knew I’d be doing when you got into this car with me. Don’t play hard to get, Jiwoo, you’re always flirting with me in class.”

Her jaw drops. “It’s called being nice, you ass! Stop the car right now, I’m getting out.”

“Jiwoo,” he starts, but it’s already so condescending that she yanks the door open. He swears, pulling over so fast that the door crashes into the curb when Jiwoo jumps out. 

“Hey!” he shouts, getting out himself. Jiwoo has no idea where the fuck they are, but she keeps walking. Surok follows her, shouting out things that she thankfully can’t hear over the rain, but now Jiwoo’s anger is fading into fear. 

It heightens when she turns and realized she’s backed herself into a dead end alley, and it’s not long before Surok catches up to her and grabs her arm, twisting her to face him. “Did you see what you did to my fucking car?” he shouts, his face angry and red. Jiwoo’s heart drops into her stomach, and she wilts, frightened. 

Then, like the voice of a thousand angels: “Is there a problem here?”

Her head snaps over and it’s Jungeun, standing in the entrance of the alley, but that doesn’t make sense. Everyone’s taken shelter from the weather, and there hadn’t been anyone around for miles when Jiwoo was just walking. She’s so relieved that she can’t question her sudden appearance, though. 

“Jungeun,” she tries, but she’s trembling too hard to speak.

“Why don’t you mind your business?” Surok snarls, not letting go of his grip on Jiwoo’s arm.

Jungeun tilts her head to the side, looking at him in contemplation, then her gaze moves to Jiwoo, and she looks almost apologetic.

“I'm sorry to have to do this in front of you, but I’m just starving,” she says. Then, so quick that Jiwoo can barely comprehend it, Jungeun strides forward and shoves Surok away from Jiwoo. Although it’s more like she _flings_ him, really, because he hits the wall which is quite a distance away from him. Before he can make a sound, Jungeun is on him, and Jiwoo’s brain doesn’t register the guttural ripping sound she hears until Jungeun moves away and Jiwoo sees her face.

Her mouth, that Jiwoo's spent so long thinking about, is soaked with blood. It’s all down her chin and neck, and her teeth are dripping with it. The rain is diluting it into pink streams, and her eyes are a bright, glowing red. She looks so breathtaking it takes Jiwoo a moment to realize that Surok is now slumped over, a large part of his throat missing.

Jiwoo’s never really understood the phrase ‘fight or flight’ until right then, but by the time the shock wears off and she starts to process what she’s just seen, she’s halfway down the street and still running. She stumbles around for hours, lost and soaked to the bone, until finally a kind stranger takes pity on her and leads her to the bus stop. 

The night passes in a blur, her sleep murky with no dreams, and she wakes up with a terrible fever. She starts to panic, thinking that this is some Dracula shit and she’s being turned, but soon realizes that 1) Jungeun didn’t bite _her_ 2) it's to be expected after all that rain 3) Jungeun isn't a vampire but probably a demon. Which, fantastic.

Jiwoo feels like an idiot when she reviews the past few months with Jungeun in light of this revelation. She can't believe she spent all that time trying to convince a literal demon to accept God. She couldn't help but wonder why the hell Jungeun had humored her, why she'd spent all that time with her doing mundane human things when she probably had babies to kill. Or something.

Her friend Heejin, who is probably an actual angel, helps Jiwoo through her sickness with magazines and board games. (Although she insists on wearing a face mask and _gloves,_ and it kind of makes Jiwoo feel like a plague victim.) Jiwoo's thankful for her presence, especially because it helps distract her from obsessively checking the news. Surok's body was found the next day, but it had mostly been accepted as an animal attack.

By night, though, her mind continues to betray her and she dreams of Jungeun nursing her back to health in other ways. Jiwoo feels helpless, like Jungeun's taken over her, and she wonders if she’s possessed. It definitely feels like it.

The first thing she does when she feels well enough to get out of bed is go to church. Her body relaxes as soon as she walks through the big doors and breathes in that familiar woody air. She feels safer being bathed in the colored light from the stained-glass windows, and she sits down to pray.

“Hey, God. You probably don’t wanna talk to me right now, but to be fair you’re the one who put a girl like _that_ in my path when you know I already have … less than heterosexual thoughts. And the fact that she’s literally a gay demon? Isn’t that kind of on the nose? Anyway. I’m pretty sure I saw her kill someone, so what am I supposed to do now? Should I call an exorcist, or the cops? I’m so confused. Just … give me a sign, please?”

As soon as she finishes her prayer, there’s a piercing sound that makes Jiwoo scream and jump to her feet. One of the beautiful stained glass windows has shattered, colored shards sprayed all across the church floor. Then familiar laughter breaks through the silence and Jungeun steps out casually from behind the Jesus statue. 

“Oops,” she says silkily. 

Jiwoo sinks back into the pew, her legs weak. “That was so _not_ funny!” she huffs, trying to sound threatening, but her shaky voice betrays her.

Jungeun pouts. “Aww. Did I scare you?” She lets her eyes flash red at that, and for fuck’s sake that is literally _demonic_ , it shouldn’t make Jiwoo feel the way she feels.

“How can you even be in here? Shouldn’t you be bursting into flames or something?” Jiwoo says, trying to regain her composure.

Jungeun has begun walking towards her, her footsteps echoing in the empty church. “Those are just old folk tales. It’ll take a lot more than a silly building to keep me from what I want,” she says, sitting down directly beside Jiwoo.

Jiwoo jumps away like she’s been burned. “Go away!” she says, as sternly as she can. “Didn’t you just hear me praying to God to get rid of you?!”

“Yeah. I also heard you say I was making you have — what was it? ‘Less than heterosexual’ thoughts?”

She smirks, casually laying her hand on Jiwoo’s knee, but her touch is firm and pressing, letting Jiwoo know that Jungeun has no intention of letting her go anywhere. That should probably make her feel alarmed, scared, but fuck if it doesn’t just make her heart rate skyrocket. Judging by the way Jungeun begins to drum her fingers to the beat, she can definitely hear it. 

She continues, “honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve been remotely interested in a human. But you’re just so _cute_. It makes me want to defile you.” Her fingers dig in to Jiwoo’s skin, making her jump a little.

Jiwoo swallows. “You need to go. This … this is wrong.”

Jungeun makes a thoughtful face. “Why? Cause I’m a demon, or cause I’m a girl?” She slides her hand up higher, just under the hem of Jiwoo’s skirt, her fingertips barely grazing against the inside of her thigh. Jiwoo squeezes her eyes so tight she sees stars. _Dear God, please give me strength when I am weak, courage when I am afraid, peace when I am in turmoil …_

“What, are you praying again?” Jungeun asks, her tone mocking. Jiwoo’s eyes flutter open and she lets out an embarrassing squeak when she sees that Jungeun has moved and is standing directly in front of her, head tilted down to look Jiwoo square in the eye. Jungeun’s irises are back to their usual jet black, but they’re still fiery somehow.

Jiwoo opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Jungeun reaches towards her and she flinches automatically, but Jungeun only cups her chin, holding her head there so she can’t look away. Never breaking their gaze, she swipes the pad of her thumb against Jiwoo’s lower lip. Her body betraying her, Jiwoo’s tongue automatically peeks out to trace the path.

Jungeun’s eyes darken, if that’s possible. “You keep saying this is wrong,” she says, her voice hushed. “Does this feel wrong to you?”

She straddles Jiwoo’s thighs with her own, almost sitting in her lap but not quite. A shiver bolts down Jiwoo’s spine. Even though Jungeun is weightless atop her, she feels suffocated. But not in a bad way. Can you be good suffocated? She doesn’t know. Honestly, it’s hard to think straight at the moment. No pun intended.

“I haven’t even done anything and look at you,” Jungeun murmurs, a slight hint of laughter to her voice. Jiwoo flushes, lowering her eyes. She doesn’t know what she looks like, but she can imagine: wide eyes, parted lips, deep blush, slightly heavy breathing that Jungeun’s supernatural ears would no doubt pick up on. If she looks the tiniest bit as dirty as she feels, she can maybe begin to imagine what Jungeun is seeing.

“We have to stop,” Jiwoo says, but her voice is weak even to herself. It’s kind of pathetic the way her breathy voice contradicts her words, but she has to at least _try_ to preserve her innocence, right?

“I don’t think that’s what you really want,” Jungeun says, tracing her hand from its position at Jiwoo’s chin down her jaw, to the side of her neck, to her throat. It feels like she’s leaving a trail of fire across Jiwoo’s skin, every nerve she touches lighting up. 

Jungeun continues, “I just think you’ve been _so_ good for _so_ long and now you just want. To be. Bad.” She tightens her hand slowly around Jiwoo’s throat, accentuating her words, and Jiwoo whimpers, already breathless and now struggling to breathe. She’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel _good_ , though, the lack of oxygen only making the pleasurable buzz in her head grow stronger. 

All of a sudden she can breathe again, and her body reacts, gulping in air. Jungeun’s stood back up again, looking at her nails and feigning disinterest. “Or, you know, maybe you’re right. We should stop,” she says, shrugging.

“No!” Jiwoo blurts, instantly clapping her hand to her face like it can take the words back. Dammit. Her mouth always works so much faster than her brain. 

Jungeun pretends to look confused. “What? I thought you wanted to stop. You know, this is all types of sinful,” she tuts, brushing a strand of Jiwoo’s hair behind her ear. Even that slight, non sexual touch makes her jolt, and honestly, it’s just getting ridiculous. Why is temptation so fucking hard to resist?! Now she knows how Eve felt. 

As if reading her mind, Jungeun demands, “stop thinking about what you want, or what you want not to want. Tell me what you need.”

Her tone is so commanding, and Jiwoo caves at the sense of authority. “Anything. _Please_ ,” she says, her voice taking on a whiny edge. She sounds embarrassingly desperate, but truthfully, she is. Her whole body feels like it’s tightly wound up, begging for some form of release. 

Jungeun smirks, smug, like she knows this is how it was going to end up. “Went from _Jungeun, no_ to _Jungeun, please_ in mere minutes … some faith,” she snorts, and Jiwoo’s cheeks flame. It’s true — Jungeun’s dissolved the morals that had been ingrained in her since childhood without that much effort, really. It’s humiliating, but the knowledge that Jungeun has that much power over her makes her legs tremble.

 _God, there’s something deeply wrong with me,_ she thinks desolately, but her mind instantly goes blank when Jungeun fluidly slides into her lap. This time she sits fully, letting Jiwoo feel her weight and the almost searing heat of her thighs against Jiwoo’s even through her black jeans. 

Then her mouth is on Jiwoo’s, firm, and if she thought she couldn’t breathe before … It’s relentless, Jungeun gripping the back of Jiwoo’s neck tightly while she kisses her with insistence. Jiwoo had always imagined her first kiss to be gentle, sweet, with someone she loved and would later marry. Definitely _not_ with a demon who’s licking into her mouth and dragging her nails across her scalp, the pinpricks of pain barely even registering in Jiwoo’s hazy mind. 

Jiwoo’s hands had been laying at her sides, frozen out of shock, but Jungeun doesn’t hesitate to relocate them to her waist, moving her mouth to Jiwoo’s jawline and kissing down her neck. Too immersed in the feeling to care about restraint any more, Jiwoo lets her hands wander, moving across the curve of Jungeun’s hips and cupping her ass. Jungeun doubles her efforts in response, switching from open-mouthed kisses to hot, sharp nips, right across the sensitive skin of Jiwoo’s collarbone. Jiwoo can’t help the soft whimper she lets out, her legs spreading automatically underneath Jungeun. 

Jungeun pulls her head back, rubbing at the reddening skin. “Cute,” she coos, raking her nails across Jiwoo’s scalp again and making her shiver. “What do you want, hmm? Use your words.”

“I don’t know,” Jiwoo blurts out, impatient to be kissing her again. It’s the truth — her lack of experience would be laughable to any human, let alone a probably-centuries-old demon. “Anything,” she adds breathily. That’s true, too. There isn’t a lot Jungeun could ask of her in that moment that she wouldn’t do. 

Jungeun doesn’t respond, choosing instead to flip them over. She’s _strong_ , and Jiwoo lets out an involuntary squeak as she’s all but tossed into the demon’s lap, hands scrambling for purchase on Jungeun’s chest. Jungeun quickly resumes her assault on Jiwoo’s neck, nipping harder now and then soothing with her tongue. Jiwoo has her hands fisted in the front of Jungeun’s shirt, her grip tightening whenever Jungeun’s teeth graze over a particularly sensitive spot.

Jungeun doesn’t slow her ministrations even as her hands smooth back up over Jiwoo’s thighs, tugging her legs apart so that her knees are bracketing Jungeun’s. Jiwoo can’t help but arch her neck, allowing Jungeun’s mouth access as her fingers map her sensitive skin, sliding up under her skirt.

“I think you want me to touch you here,” Jungeun murmurs against her throat, pressing the pads of her fingers over the front of Jiwoo’s panties. Jiwoo exhales harshly, not expecting the touch; even though it’s dulled by the fabric, it still makes her hips jerk and draws her attention to the ache between her legs.

“Y-yeah,” she manages to breathe, but then the contact is gone. She whines, chasing Jungeun’s fingers, but her hips are firmly held in place.

“Manners,” Jungeun says, almost sounding _bored_ and Jiwoo is seriously going to lose her mind.

“Please, _please_ ,” she begs, not bothering to hide her desperation at all now, and almost sighs with relief when Jungeun puts her fingers back, lazily rubbing circles right above Jiwoo’s clit.

“So sensitive,” she notes, admiring the way Jiwoo is already rocking in her lap, breathing erratic. “Have you even done this to yourself before?”

“Yes,” Jiwoo says defensively. She didn’t have to disclose the fact that it was just once, after watching the girls’ volleyball match at her school, and she’d been so overcome with guilt she’d never dared again. Either way, it didn’t really count because it definitely hadn’t felt like _this_ , shocks of pleasure shooting up her spine and making her grab Jungeun’s shoulders for purchase. It’s a dangerous feeling for sure. 

Without warning, Jungeun gives a sharp tug and Jiwoo hears a ripping noise. She watches in disbelief as Jungeun withdraws her hand to toss to the floor what was once Jiwoo’s favorite pair of panties.

“Hey!” she exclaims, but then Jungeun’s fingers are back, without the cloth barrier this time and _holy_ fuck. Her hands are overly hot, as is the rest of her, and it’s almost painful on Jiwoo’s already heated flesh. It’s delicious, though, the feeling of Jungeun’s firm fingers pressing and rubbing right where she needs it. When Jungeun adopts a steady rhythm she can _hear_ the evidence of her arousal, filthy slick noises filling the air, and it makes her cheeks burn with shame but it only makes her more desperate.

“You’re so sensitive,” Jungeun says, moving her free hand to lightly pinch Jiwoo’s nipple through her shirt. Jiwoo actually _keens_ like a fucking cat and Jungeun grins, point proven. “I bet you make the sweetest face when you cum. You wanna show me?”

She clearly isn’t waiting for an actual response from Jiwoo, judging by the way she takes it upon herself to speed up the movement of her hand as well as moving that wicked, evil mouth to Jiwoo’s breasts, mouthing roughly through the fabric. 

“Fuck!” Jiwoo gasps, eyes screwing shut as the different sensations shoot through her. She’s completely overwhelmed by how good everything feels, but thankfully her body seems to know what to do, her pelvis rolling down to meet the press of Jungeun’s fingers. 

“Come on, baby,” Jungeun purrs, and Jiwoo can do nothing but moan at the pet name, her hips rocking _hard_ and displacing Jungeun’s fingers for a moment. When she settles back, Jungeun’s moved to cup her completely, the heel of her palm grinding into Jiwoo’s clit while her fingertips just barely ghost over her hole. 

That’s what tips Jiwoo over the edge, back arching like a rod as her orgasm wracks her suddenly and violently. She’s barely aware of the stream of incoherent words spilling from her mouth, but she can’t stop even if she wants to, her entire body focused on chasing that electric feeling. Her skin feels like it’s burning, probably the same temperature as Jungeun’s now, and the euphoria that accompanies the heat flooding through her is like nothing she ever could have imagined. 

Jungeun works her through it, never stopping her motions, even though it seems like years before Jiwoo feels her soul return to her body. When her eyes flutter open, she’s staring right up at the ceiling at the mural of little pink cherubs sitting on clouds. They look scandalized. 

“I was right. You _do_ look cute when you cum,” Jungeun says, and the praise makes Jiwoo blush despite how filthy she feels. Or maybe especially because of how filthy she feels. Jungeun leans in then, murmurs, into her ear: “I hope you don’t think I’m done with you.” 

Even though she still kind of feels like a puddle in Jungeun’s lap, Jiwoo shivers in anticipation at her words. Thankfully Jungeun gives her a few more seconds to recuperate, rubbing her hands up and down her sides.

As soon as Jiwoo can catch her breath, though, Jungeun moves her off her lap with that terrifying speed and bends her over the pew. Before Jiwoo can even register it, Jungeun uses one hand to pin both of Jiwoo’s wrists behind her back while the other flips Jiwoo’s skirt up. Jiwoo jumps slightly at the contact with the air, and realizes that she can’t really move at all in this position. The thought has her feeling dizzy. 

It doesn’t help knowing that Jungeun is still fully clothed as she stands behind Jiwoo and unabashedly appreciates her bare ass. The complete lack of control Jiwoo has makes her feel unbearably hot all over, and she thinks, _maybe I’m already in hell_.

Or maybe it’s heaven, because Jungeun finally stops teasing around the seam of her thigh and presses her fingers back between Jiwoo’s legs, sliding between her folds. _Getting them wet_ , her brain supplies, and then nearly short-circuits because of the implication. Sure enough, she feels Jungeun’s middle finger press at the rim of her hole, just up until the first knuckle, then fully inside.

It’s not a completely unfamiliar feeling _—_ Jiwoo got this far That One Time _—_ so she just focuses on making sure she breathes while Jungeun shallowly pumps her finger. Besides, she’s wet enough that it’s not even a mild stretch. She opens her eyes, instantly regrets it when she makes eye contact with the statue of Jesus, and closes them again, allowing herself to get lost in the sensation.

She’s caught off guard when Jungeun slips in a second finger, though, unable to hold in her small gasp. Her hips buck, but she’s not sure whether they’re trying to escape the sensation or get closer to it. Jungeun must feel her tense or something because she pulls her fingers out.

Jiwoo starts to protest but Jungeun is just changing positions, turning Jiwoo around so they’re facing each other. She slings Jiwoo’s legs over her waist and slides her fingers back in while kissing hotly at Jiwoo’s neck, and the distraction works perfectly. Now that Jiwoo’s arms are free she can wrap them around Jungeun, pulling her closer and whimpering as the sensation melts from strange to pleasurable.

The combination of Jungeun’s mouth and fingers has Jiwoo reduced to a panting mess embarrassingly quickly, her mind going numb from how good it feels. It’s like she was made for this, for _Jungeun_ , who seems to know exactly how to pull her apart. Jungeun slips in a third finger at the same time that she bites at Jiwoo’s collarbone, and Jiwoo all but mewls.

“Oh, you liked that?” Jungeun murmurs, although it’s clearly a rhetorical question because she sinks her teeth into Jiwoo’s skin again. And again, and again, harder each time, her fingers speeding up too. Her tongue is hot, soothing carefully over each bite. 

Jungeun pulls her head back to examine her work, fingers slowing down. She hums appreciatively. “Look at you, all marked up. Everyone’s gonna know I’ve ruined you.” Jiwoo’s breath hitches at that, and Jungeun doesn’t miss it.

“It gets you off, doesn’t it?” she says, her fingers beginning to pick up the pace again. “Everybody knowing how dirty you really are?”

“ _Ah_ _—_ ’m not,” Jiwoo protests weakly, although the way her hips are rocking into Jungeun’s fingers says otherwise.

Jungeun ignores her. “Filthy baby. I bet you’d like it if everyone watched.”

Suddenly, Jiwoo thinks she hears a whisper and her eyes snap open. She swears for a second she sees her pastor in the pews, but then she blinks and the room is empty. She wonders if she’s going insane, but then notices Jungeun’s grin.

“Stop that!” she whines, squeezing her eyes shut again.

“You’re in no position to make demands,” Jungeun says with a laugh, but she stops humiliating Jiwoo. Before Jiwoo can wonder if that’s really a good thing, Jungeun adds a third finger and reconcentrates her efforts, and then it’s impossible for Jiwoo to think about anything else.

Just as Jiwoo’s started to get comfortable with the rhythm, Jungeun strokes her fingers upwards on the thrust in and Jiwoo swears she sees stars. “Again,” she cries, fingers clenching so hard in Jungeun’s shirt she’s sure it warps the fabric.

“Say please,” Jungeun says, without missing a beat.

“P-please, Jungeun, _please_ … felt really good,” she tries, the steady drag of Jungeun’s fingers making it hard to focus on anything else.

Jungeun tuts. “You’re gonna have to get better at begging, cutie.” Still, she takes pity on Jiwoo and begins curling her fingers with every thrust. The pleasure comes in crashing waves, relentless, and Jiwoo doesn’t know she’s crying until she feels wetness on her cheeks.

“More,” she pleads, feeling the familiar tug in her lower stomach.

“Already close again?” Jungeun asks, feigning innocence like she doesn’t know she’s fucking Jiwoo practically into the astral plane. “I make you feel this good, Jiwoo?” She tugs at her hair to emphasize, and Jiwoo whines low in her throat.

“Yes, Jungeun, so good, I c-can’t…” She’s mildly aware she’s babbling, but she’s far gone past the point of forming sentences. Every muscle in her body feels coiled, ready to snap.

“Don’t hold back,” Jungeun instructs, and she moves her free hand to Jiwoo’s clit again, taking up a punishing pace. Jiwoo’s still so sensitive from earlier, and she follows Jungeun’s commands, not trying to control the moans that spill from her lips. She moves her hands from Jungeun’s shirt, instead clinging to the pews for dear life as her second orgasm rips through her, far more intense than the first one. It’s almost too much, liquid heat flooding her body and brain, and she dimly realizes she’s saying Jungeun’s name over and over again like a prayer.

She’s still so sensitive from earlier and it reaches the point of overstimulation almost too quickly. She doesn’t want Jungeun to stop touching her but her body can’t take any more, shrinking away from Jungeun’s touch. Jungeun takes the hint, and Jiwoo doesn’t know whether she’s relieved or disappointed when Jungeun’s fingers are gone.

Jungeun is, too, when Jiwoo looks over her shoulder. She’s nowhere to be found, vanished into thin air just as abruptly as she'd appeared. Jiwoo barely has the presence of mind to tug her skirt back down before she slides onto the floor of the church, her legs refusing to work any longer. She lets her head thud against the cool wood and closes her eyes, struggling to even her breathing. “Jesus.”

“It’s Jungeun,” she hears a whisper, and her head shoots up, hitting the back of the pew painfully. No one’s there, but peals of laughter ring through the hallowed halls.

Once Jiwoo’s bones feel less like jelly she leaves the church, opting to leave her ruined panties on the floor rather than run the risk of someone seeing her throw them away. Unfortunately that means she has to walk home commando, and she honestly almost has a heart attack every time the wind blows a little too hard. 

What’s worse than that, though, is the fact that she’s soaked till midway down her thighs, and she can _feel_ it, the same way she can still feel the ghost of Jungeun’s fingers inside her with every step. She can’t stop hearing her silky voice: _I bet you’d like it if everyone watched._ She hates the way Jungeun is probably right, because she feels a shameful thrill every time someone’s eyes linger on her fucked-out appearance for a little too long. 

When she gets home she’s never been more thankful for having moved out from her parents’ house because there’s no way to hide what’s just happened. Her hair is mussed, her lips swollen from kissing and biting down moans, and her neck is littered with red marks that will probably only grow darker. Jiwoo avoids mirrors for the rest of the night. 

She tries to go about the rest of her daily activities as normally as possible, but even though she pretends, her body doesn't forget. She keeps feeling what she can’t describe as other than aftershocks, sudden rushes of warmth that make her clench her thighs and grind her teeth. Still, she ignores it, throwing herself into a school project that isn’t due for another two weeks.

It’s over for her when she finally lays down to sleep, though. Every time she closes her eyes, images flash behind her eyelids like dirty vignettes: Jungeun smirking down at her, bending her over, suckling at her throat. She’s pretty sure this is the highlight reel God is going to play for her on judgement day, right before he sends her straight down.

As a last resort, she tries to carry out her nightly prayers, even though the words feel wrong on her tongue. “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul will keep—”

“You have a lot of nerve, using that mouth to pray,” she hears, soft, but it makes her jump out of her skin and almost roll off the bed.

“ _God_ ,” she grits out, wrapping the sheets around her protectively. Jungeun is sitting at the edge of the bed, surveying her with that insufferable smirk. “Haven’t you done enough?!”

“Not nearly,” Jungeun says, resting her hand on Jiwoo’s leg. Her touch burns through the sheet, and Jiwoo pulls away, curling into herself.

“Just leave,” she says into her pillow. “You did earlier.”

Jungeun has the audacity to laugh. “Did I hurt your feelings?” she mocks. “You wanted me to cuddle you after?” Jiwoo doesn’t respond, so Jungeun adds, “if you must know, I had business to attend to. I didn’t exactly plan that little meeting, but I just couldn’t help myself.”

Jiwoo remains silent, hoping that Jungeun will get bored and leave. Of course, she’s not that lucky, and Jungeun continues talking. “I’m here now, though. Don’t mind me, though. I don’t want to keep you from finishing your prayer.”

Jiwoo figures she might as well. Maybe it’ll exorcise Jungeun, or at least keep her at bay. “... If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul will take. There. Are you happy?”

Jungeun pouts, crawling up the bed leisurely like she’s stalking her prey. “No, actually. I’m kind of offended that you can still even say His name after the filth I had you spouting today.” Her hand is back, tracing over Jiwoo’s legs, and Jiwoo really can’t help the way they part ever so slightly. “I only want to hear you use that pretty mouth to beg for more.”

Jiwoo is already unbearably warm and honestly, too tired to pretend like she doesn’t want this anymore. She tosses the blanket off, relishing the cool air for a brief moment before Jungeun is pressing her body down onto her, capturing her lips in a deep kiss.

This one isn’t like before. It’s still intense, especially with Jungeun’s body draping her own like this, but it’s slower, more leisurely. Jiwoo wonders whether Jungeun really had business to attend to earlier. She can’t say she doesn’t feel a little triumphant at the thought of Jungeun dropping everything to come see her.

It emboldens her, and when Jungeun draws back she whispers against her lips: “Touch me again, please.”

The corner of Jungeun’s mouth quirks up. “You remembered to say please this time,” she notes. “Good girl.”

If Jiwoo thought Jungeun degrading her was hot, she isn’t prepared for how her praise makes her feel. There’s a sharp twinge between her legs and it shouldn’t be this arousing, being talked to like a well-behaved dog. It is, though, and she waits with bated breath, eager to please.

Jungeun’s fingers find the waistband of her sleep shorts and tug on it slowly, letting it snap back against Jiwoo’s skin. Jiwoo squirms at the sting and bites back a whimper, which ends up escaping her lips anyway when Jungeun ducks her head to suckle at Jiwoo’s hard nipple through her thin shirt. 

“Love how responsive you are for me,” she says against the damp fabric, her hot breath making Jiwoo arch her back and fist the sheets. She’s already panting, breathless; it’s a little ridiculous, but Jungeun just said she _loves_ it so Jiwoo can’t bring herself to feel embarrassed. 

Jungeun keeps moving her mouth down, trailing feathery kisses across Jiwoo’s stomach and hipbones, and uses her teeth to tug at the elastic of Jiwoo’s shorts. She bites her lip when she sees that Jiwoo hasn’t bothered to replace the panties from earlier. 

“Making it easy for me, hmm?” Jungeun says. “Although I have to say I liked the skirt much better.” She settles between Jiwoo’s legs and uses her fingers to spread her further apart, eyes hungry. Jiwoo throws an arm over her eyes, flustered at being so exposed and up close. 

“Don’t be shy, baby. You’re pretty everywhere,” Jungeun insists, and then she’s licking up Jiwoo’s slit with broad strips and Jiwoo chokes on air, caught off guard. Jungeun’s tongue is almost unbearably hot; it feels like it’s tracing wet fire all over Jiwoo. It’s so _good_ , though, and Jungeun is merciless as usual, having Jiwoo squirming beneath her in minutes. 

Jiwoo’s panting openly now, vaguely aware that at some point her hands have fisted tightly in Jungeun’s hair. Her hips rock upwards to chase Jungeun’s lips every time they sucks over her clit, and while Jungeun doesn’t stop her, she isn’t giving Jiwoo what she wants. She teases, never doing the same thing for too long, _just_ letting Jiwoo get into the rhythm before switching it up. 

“Jungeun, please,” she stutters out when Jungeun slows to delicate, torturous licks. 

“Please what?” Jungeun says, and Jiwoo almost yells in frustration. 

“ _Please_ , your fingers inside me again,” she says, making sure not to mince her words, and is instantly granted her wish, toes curling when Jungeun strokes up inside her.

“Look at you, asking so nicely,” Jungeun praises, pressing a second finger in. Jiwoo’s still a little sore from earlier, but the faint burn only intensifies the pleasure.

“Wanna be good for you,” she manages, and doesn’t miss the way Jungeun inhales sharply.

“Come for me, then?” she asks, not bothering to wait for a response before reattaching her mouth to Jiwoo’s clit. She’s so enthusiastic, eating Jiwoo out like she’s starving, all the while keeping up the pace with her fingers. 

The delightful mix of sensations has Jiwoo reeling over the edge embarrassingly fast, and she comes hard, gasping Jungeun’s name. Her thighs clamp around the demon’s head like a vice as she rides out her orgasm on her tongue and fingers, heavy heat spreading through her veins.

She tugs Jungeun up when it gets to be too much, and she goes wordlessly, instantly coming up to kiss Jiwoo fiercely. Jiwoo can taste herself on Jungeun’s lips, which should be kinda weird but just makes her throb lazily. The post-coital bliss is sinking into her bones and she really just wants to lie in Jungeun’s arms, but she tugs at Jungeun’s belt insistently.

“Can I … do you?” she asks, blushing at how dumb she sounds.

“Oh, shy all of a sudden?” Jungeun says with a laugh, and then sits back on her knees. “As much as I’d like to take you up on that, I have some more business to attend to.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what that actually means?” Jiwoo asks, curious.

“I don’t think you want to know,” Jungeun says, and that’s probably true.

“Okay… but you’ll come back, right?” At that, Jungeun grins triumphantly, so Jiwoo quickly adds, “just so I can return the favor. It’s only fair, right?”

“Right,” Jungeun confirms, amused. “Yes, I’ll be back, cutie. I’ll see when I have the time.” She tucks Jiwoo’s hair behind her ears, lets her fingers trail down the side of Jiwoo’s neck. “I might be more inclined to make a surprise visit if you wear that skirt again.”

“Done,” Jiwoo breathes, and she’s not kidding — she’s already planning outfits in her head, along with bags she can keep replacement clothing in. 

“Goodnight, princess,” Jungeun says, and then she’s gone, abrupt as always. Jiwoo pulls the covers back over her body, missing Jungeun’s warmth. She was ready to go to sleep earlier, but after _that_ , she’s far too wound up. 

She decides to binge watch Netflix until the early hours of the morning. After all, it’s a Saturday night, so she can sleep in. Plus, she has a feeling she won’t be making it to church the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> so... there we go *clown music*  
> not to promote myself on this, but my twitter is @bluejinsol xoxo


End file.
